Frozen Milk
by Hanahakk
Summary: It's the hottest day Bayville has ever seen and Piotr and Illyana are just looking for a little ice cream. But they're not the only ones... Might be a bit OOC. My first actual real non-crazy fanfiction.


AN: Well... this is the first time I try to write an Evo fic. Let's hope it doesn't suck too bad. And special thanks to JCRobin for betaing some (most) parts for me. I'm not sure if this is awesome at all, the dialogue and storyline are kinda stupid, but at least it's not epically horrible and let's just leave it at that. It's mainly meant to improve my English anyway /

Disclaimer: (insert a longing gaze here) Shyeah, you got it, I own nothing. 'Cept one guy and an ice cream shop. I have an ice cream shop as an OC! Isn't it awesome?

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No matter how blue the sky was, it felt red. Purple, at best. The heat was just so completely oppressive it was hard not to look at the sky and accuse it of hiding its true colors. Weather that hot was just plain unavoidable.

Therefore, Benner's Ice Cream Shop was crammed with customers. They stood impatiently in rows, annoyed in the heat and wanting to get their cool, refreshing frozen milk.

Of course, not all the customers were normal. Mutants want ice cream too. Especially the ones that came from cold countries.

Illyana tugged at Piotr's sleeve.

"Piotr, my legs are tired," she said. She tried to look at him with big, puppy-dog eyes, but found she was too exhausted to open them wide enough. He smiled a little and picked her up. Five minutes later she wasn't tired anymore and wanted to get down again. Piotr just smiled, even though the sun was baking his forehead, his toes felt deepfried and his sister was complaining.

„Pitor, I want ice cream.

„You'll have to wait."

„I don't wanna wait!"

„...Mister, what language are you babbling in?"

Piotr spun around, and spotted a little brown-haired boy, maybe six years older than his sister.

„Uh.." The little boy looked at him curiously. „It's.. Russian." He managed to say, his accent more obvious than he'd wanted it to be.

"Cool!"

Piotr looked at him skeptically.

"I'm Jamie." Jamie smiled sweetly and held out his hand.

Piotr, finally having something he knew how to react to, took his hand awkwardly. "Nice to meet you, I'm Piotr."

"Piort?"

"Piotr."

"Peeotr?"

"Something like that."

"Aww, I wanna get it right."

"You do not have to, you can call me Peter."

"Oh, that's a lot easier! Is that your daughter?"

"No, she's my sister," Piotr answered, a little embarrassed. "I'm nineteen."

"You look older, Mr. Peter"

Piotr didn't quite know how to answer that. "Uhm… thank you?"

"You're welcome! Whoa, the line is extremely long today!"

"Yes it is, little one."

Somebody poked Jamie's back. "WOULD YOU HURRY UP? YOU'RE BLOCKING THE REST OF US!"

"Sorry, sir." Jamie answered and tried to push Piotr forward, who took a few calm steps, dragging Illyana with him.

"Boy, somebody is grumpy today!" half-whispered Jamie.

"You do realize he's standing right behind you." all-whispered Piotr. Now it was Jamie's turn to blush.

The man's name was Patrick Johnson, and he absolutely loved ice cream, and really despised the sun. Right now. With a big Russian guy blocking the way, and a chatty little boy helping him block it. How annoying. Coincidentally, Mr. Johnson had just been fired today. Now he was sure life had something against him, and decided to have something against life. And those chatters in front of him.

Mr. Johnson took a deep breath. "My boy… I have been standing here for twenty minutes, in this ungodly heat! Show some respect!"

"Yeah, well, I have been standing here a little longer.." Jamie answered, completely unaffected.

"Tha… THAT'S NOT THE POINT!" Mr. Johnson had started screaming.

"Then what is the point?" asked Jamie, now getting a little nervous.

"Talking about people behind their back.."

"In this case, in front of their back." exclaimed Jamie.

"AND interrupting them in the middle of a speech" Mr. Johnson scowled, "Is VERY RUDE, YOUNG MAN!"

Illyana couldn't understand what the strange man was thinking, yelling at the boy like that. At this rate, she was pretty scared that he was going to explode all over them. She decided this was a good time to start crying. She cowered into Piotr's big hand, sobbing quietly.

Piotr turned around, looking over Jamie, glaring at the man, put on his most threatening look and simply said: "You're scaring my sister."

Mr. Johnson flinched a little, and decided that yelling at the boy wasn't such a good idea to begin with. "Well... uh... I'm sorry." He stood just stood there uncomfortably for a while, then cleared his throat and looked stared at the sky.

He took that moment to seriously reconsider his life. He was a mid-aged widower with two children. He lost his job. He was soon going to be broke. What would happen to his children? Why had he yelled at that little boy? Was he a monster? He looked back at the boy, he was trying to talk to the little girl. And the little girl was smiling through her tears. He tried again. "I'm really sorry, sir."

Piotr had not expected this reaction, but smiled and answered. "It is all fine."

"Piotr! Ice cream!" Illyana almost screamed. Piotr shushed at her. "But Pitor, we're almost there!" She continued babbling in Russian.

"What is she saying now, Peter?"

"She is telling me we are almost there, and she wants her ice cream. She also wants to brush your hair."

Jamie quickly ran a hand over his hair and made up his mind. "Nah, it's fine. I'll just ask Jean when I come back to the instit... to home." The young boy looked around secretively.

"What is wrong?" Piotr asked.

"Nothing! Nothing at all! Not a thi... hey.. I think I've seen you before!"

"Well, I have never seen you." Piotr answered. Jamie just stared at his face.

Suddenly Jamie remembered the pictures Professor X had showed them. The pictures and the profiles. He remembered that face, even though it was shinier on the picture. He backed away with wide eyes.

Piotr was very confused by now. And a little frightened. He meant to ask what was wrong, but couldn't get the words out. Jamie just stared at him.

"Colossus?" Jamie finally managed to ask.

Piotr stared at the ground. "Yes." He finally said. "But do not be frightened. I will not harm anyone."

"Why not? I mean, you're evil, right?" Jamie asked.

"I am not evil! I..." Piotr stopped, not sure if he should say this out loud to a stranger. "I had no choice."

Jamie blinked at him. "So... do you have a choice now?"

"I... think so.." Piotr looked at his sister, and back at Jamie.

"Piotr! Ice cream!" Illyana shouted in Russian, trying to pull her brother inside. Piotr couldn't help but smiling at her enthusiasm, and followed her.

"So," he asked his sister. "What kind of ice cream do you want?"

"Uh.." she hesitated. "Chocolate!" she shouted a little too loud, giggled at her own sillyness and ran to the counter. She stopped an inch from the table, and put her hands on the counter.

"One chocolate ice cream, please, thank you!" she said cheerily in Russian. The clerk just blinked at her. She opened her mouth to repeat her request, but Piotr cut her off.

"Sorry about that," he said, using his best English.

The clerk, who's name tag read "Mitch", nodded understandingly and said out of habit: "Can I help you, sir?"

"Da." Piotr answered, and then switched languages before "Mitch" would think they were both crazy. "My sister would like a chocolate ice cream."

"One chocolate ice cream, coming up!" said Mitch cheerily and literally swooped the ice cream on the table. "Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you." Piotr paid and handed the ice cream to a very happy Illyana.

"Piotr, I wanna make a mustache with the ice cream! Can I?" She asked as soon as she got it, obviously having been considering it for a fair amount of time.

"No, Yana." He answered immediately, before she took his silence as a "yes". "you promised you wouldn't spill your ice cream."

"But Piotr, it's so hot outside, and if I don't make a mustace my face will go dry and I'll be really tired and you'll have to carry me!"

Piotr stopped and considered this. Of course, the ice cream shop was a lot cooler than outside, even considering the mass of people constantly streaming in and out. His toes had even cooled down a little.

He began to explain to her what would happen if she did make a mustache, but a familiar voice interrupted him.

"One vanilla ice cream with sprinkles, please." Jamie requested politely. Mitch smiled at him and casually dipped the ice cream in a bowl of sprinkles. "Here you go!" He named the price, and watched Jamie struggle with pulling the money out of his pocket.

"Oh.. oh.. wait... Got it!" He grinned and handed the crumbled money to Mitch, who put it in the cash register. Jamie quickly exchanged 'Thank Yous' with the friendly shop clerk and started gnawing the sprinkled parts of the ice cream.

--

AN: I really need to get a plot... (..)

Well, that's all for today. And remember: I'm a horrible monster that feeds on reviews. Well, not really. But I feel I seriously need some cricticsm..


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